White Walls
by NervousRedhead
Summary: The pain of finding someone you cherish in a mental asylum in the mountains is always deafening. Especially when you’re the one who drove them there."
1. Chapter 1

**Ready for some angst and whatnot? Well just to warn ya'll, this story as quite a bit!**

**I'm sorry my other two stories are stuck on the account of writer's block: ( Maybe this story will help me! **

**Here's the first chapter.**

**I own nothing but my ideas!**

**Enjoy!**

She liked it there. The walls were white. The blankets were a light blue. They let her shower as much as she wanted. There were no germs. No germs.

"None. None." Her mantra was a small one, a quiet one. She wiped at her pale yellow nightgown and looked out the window. It was raining again. Normally that would have bothered her. But she was safe here. The mud puddles were a good four stories below her.

She hadn't eaten in two days. They made her drink water. She complied, because they let her clean her own shower before using it.

A soothing voice roused her from her dreams. "Sweetie. There's someone here to see you." She acknowledged the voice with a small moan. Her only visitors for the past few months were new doctors from across the country. "He's very handsome. He thinks he knows who you are."

"Who I am." She stated. She didn't ask. She knew who she was. She was Jane Doe A9856. That's how it would remain for the rest of her miserable life. That was until one voice, one word, penetrated her thoughts.

"Emma?"

///

He had been looking for her for two months, three weeks, and 5 days. He drove across Ohio, he filed two missing person's report, he called her parents every night and made sure she hadn't shown up there. They were just as concerned as he was, but at some point they were the ones comforting _him_. They told him that she had a reason for avoiding him. And that's when the guilt set in.

_Two months, three weeks, and 6 days ago…_

_ She was scared. That much was clear. He came home from a very stressful Glee practice to find her sitting on the kitchen counter with her knees drawn to her chest. There was a large pile of what used to be their favorite dish set smashed on the floor. Normally this sight would have switched on coddle mode immediately, but after dealing with the baby drama with Finn and Quinn, and hearing Rachel nag about song choices for three hours, he wasn't in the mood._

_ "What is it now?" He sighed rubbing his hands over his face in irritation. "Emma! Were those the yellow daisy plates?"_

_ She looked up at him, her large eyes glazed with tears. "Roach…" She whispered pointing at the floor where she had seen the vile creature crawling over two hours ago._

_ "A bug! All of this because of a damn bug?" He laughed and shook his head. "You have got to be kidding me!" He kicked the pile of porcelain._

_ "I'm sorry!" She whimpered. "It…it was…"_

_ "Sweetie! You need to get over this crap!" Will grabbed her knees, which were still drawn up under her chin. "I don't know how much longer I could…take it…" He gasped the last part._

_ "I'm sorry." She repeated, tears flowing freely now. "I didn't mean to drop them!" He stepped away from her and began to push the shards together with his feet._

_ "I know! It was an accident! It's always an accident! It's a disability! I should be more understanding right?" _

_ "I didn't say that!"_

_ "But that's what I should be right? I'm insensitive!" _

_ "No you're not! Will I'll clean it up!" She tried to jump down, but he pushed her back onto the counter._

_ "You're not wearing shoes! Stay put! The last thing I need is you freaking out about your feet bleeding!" He glared at her before going at getting a broom. "I'm done with this!"_

_ "Done?" Emma sniffled wiping at her eyes._

_ "I'm done with your crazy shit!" He yelled as he began to sweep. "We're going to a shrink tomorrow! Or something! You're letting it rule your life!"_

_ "I don't need help Will!"_

_ "Yes you do!" He countered. "I can't be with you if you stay like this!" He took his anger out on the porcelain as he swept with intensity. _

_ Suddenly, she was off of the counter. She walked through the broken china and stormed out the front door, with bloody feet. He stared after her in shock. At first he didn't know she was leaving. She didn't have shoes on and yet she walked outside. He heard her car start up and speed off._

He doesn't know what was wrong with him. Never in his life could he imagine treating her like that. She was his world. She was the love of his life. And he had yelled at her for something she couldn't control. He took the last month off of school to search for her. He went to Regionals with the kids, before delving back into finding her. He needed to know where she was.

He needed to know.

He needed to know where she was.

She wasn't in Ohio. He knew she wasn't in Ohio. If she had gone home, her mother would have told him just to get him to stop calling her. He drove through Indiana. He drove through Illinois, through Iowa. He didn't stay in hotels; he slept in his beat up old van at rest stops for about two hours every night.

He called hospitals across the state. "Thirty years old, about one hundred and fifteen pounds, five-foot four inches tall, red hair, brown eyes." He described her at least two hundred times a day. No one matched that description.

One day, the blue monster that was his vehicle gave up on him. It broke down in the middle of nowhere in Nebraska. After a few hours of unsuccessful tinkering with the engine, he began kicking the van and yelling at it.

He almost didn't hear his cell phone ringing in his pocket.

'…_We saw your missing person's report...'_

'…_There was an accident…"_

'…_Terrified of being touched…hates dirt…asking for Will…"_

The woman on the other end had told him so many things. But the only thing he heard was:

'_She's safe.'_

She was safe. She was in some psychiatric hospital in the mountains of Colorado. But she was safe.

///

_Suicidal. _It was the one word he would never have used to describe her. Eccentric, neurotic, or anxious perhaps, but Emma Pillsbury was not suicidal. Despite the fact that the filthy world terrified her, she loved life.

"…She drove her car into a river..."

"…Broke a mirror in the bathroom and tried to slash her wrists..."

"…Smuggled medication to overdose…"

"No!" Will argued covering his mouth. "It can't be her…She wouldn't." He surprised himself by HOPING that it wasn't Emma. The idea of driving her to a breaking point was too much for him to bear.

"She doesn't know her name." The nurse continued as they walked down a long corridor. "Or at least she doesn't respond to it. Right after I called you the other day, I tried to address her with the name you had given me. But she showed no indication that she knew what I was talking about."

They stopped in front of a large white door with a small, pane less window. Inside, he could see a small form huddled under blue blankets and sheets on a twin sized metal-framed bed. The nurse opened the door and he followed her in.

"Sweetie. There's someone here to see you." The elderly woman told the woman on the bed. "He's very handsome. He thinks he knows who you are."

He could see red hair. He could see frail, alabaster fingers clutching the blankets. Then he knew.

He heard a small mutter, one he couldn't quite make out. In fact, he wasn't sure that he was fully listening. The pain of finding someone you cherish in a mental asylum in the mountains is always deafening. Especially when you're the one who drove them there.

"Emma?" He called cautiously.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I own nothing**_

_**///**_

_William Nathaniel Schuester was a very energetic child. He was always running around the neighborhood and singing at the top of his lungs. His parents always encouraged him. They always told him he was very talented and that he should never stop being who he was. His biggest supporter was his grandmother. _

_Regina "Gigi" Schuester had been the first to notice her grandson's knack for not only singing, but dancing as well. She had given him his first pair of dance shoes for his fifth birthday, an acoustic guitar for his seventh birthday, and a shiny black piano for his sixteenth birthday. Even though she had other grandchildren, her world seemed to revolve around Will._

_Two months, three weeks, and six days ago, Gigi died. _

_Two months, three weeks, and six days ago, Will Schuester, in lieu of mourning, attacked the love of his life. _

///

She was sitting up now. The rusting metal head post dug into her bag, but it didn't hurt. She watched him as he filled out paperwork with intense concentration.

He was her emergency contact. He was the one who had said he's take responsibility for her, in the event of something horrible happening. This was that event. She thought she had gotten away from him.

"We got new neighbors." He told her with a light smile. "They're from like…Poland or something…they're always arguing in weird languages."

She looked at him. He was trying to act as though nothing had happened. As though she weren't sitting in a room with bars on the windows and cameras in the corners. As though she hadn't traveled practically across the country, just to drive into some icy waters where no one would recognize her when her body surfaced.

He was acting as though she wasn't insane.

///

"I would like to stay here." She stated as her doctor, a man with no name, who she called _Brown Beard_ in her head to differentiate him from the other strange men who were in that building.

"I'm sorry Miss. Pillsbury,"

"Please don't call me that…"

"But if he consents to sending you to a hospital nearer to your home, then we need to do what's best for you."

"I would like to stay here." She repeated turning to look at the man who once shared so much with her. "I would like to stay here."

///

"Mom! I'm sorry, but I can't just make her leave! I won't!" He spoke with his mother on the phone. The woman, though initially encouraging of her son's cross-country pursuit, was beginning to grow concerned with his prolonged absence. "It's not fair to her…I know…It's summer! I don't need to be back for another month!"

He paced the hallway where he had been exiled to yet again as the doctors spoke with Emma. He peered into the small window to see her sitting in a chair, staring despondently out the window, while men in white coats conversed in the corner.

They all looked grave. Very grave.

"I'll call you later." He hung up his phone and continued to watch her through the physical and mental walls that separated them.

///

He brought her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He'd bought the supplies, and a gallon of milk at a small supermarket down the road from the hospital. She ate it. Without emotion she ate it.

The jelly was strawberry. The peanut butter was crunchy. The milk was skim, all of her favorites. She didn't seem to notice.

"They won Regionals." He announced suddenly as he bit into his second sandwich. She stared at him blankly. "Glee did." He said needlessly. If she cared she would have smiled, or something, to let him know she was in there.

"They miss you." He whispered before regressing back into silence.

///

He had fallen asleep. He had been there for three days now, talking to her. Comforting her, despite the fact that he had no idea why.

She watched him, finally letting the sorrow seep into her face. He still cared for her. He was still concerned for her. He still loved her.

He still loved her.

He still loved her.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back and reached for his hand, which was resting on the bed. His fingers were warmer than she had remembered. His skin was softer.

"I missed you." She whispered before dozing off, letting go of his hand in the process.

///

Two weeks and four days of sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair. Eighteen days of watching her stare through him as he spoke with her. Four hundred and thirty-two hours of listening to nurses tell him that her name wasn't Emma, at least not until she was ready for it to be. Twenty-five thousand and nine hundred and twenty minutes of wondering when she'd be back to normal.

Two weeks and four days had gone by. And on a cool rainy morning in early June, Emma made lifted her head to look at him. "I want to leave."

He almost didn't hear the whisper as he ate his cereal. He was content with their silent sittings.

Looking up, he swallowed his mouthful of Honeycombs and stared at her incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"

She stared at him, with a hint of pleading in her otherwise emotionless face. "I want to leave."

///

He had never signed papers so fast in his life. He told himself that he would read the fine print on the carbon copies once he got her back to Lima. By that evening, after three final evaluations, done by three separate doctors, she was cleared to leave. He had gotten the van repaired while he was visiting her, so it was as good as new by the time they were ready to leave.

He made sure that she had a blanket and pillow within reach in case she needed it. The nurses handed him a bag full of medication, and refill information for their local pharmacist.

"We've got a fun drive ahead of us." He told her with a big smile. Emma stared out the window warily as he pulled out of the long driveway, away from the building that had been her home for the past few months. "Are you comfortable?"

He had bought her a pair of jeans, a nice button down shirt, and a bright blue pea coat for the drive home-among many other clothes for her to change into as she pleased.

She didn't speak for hours. For hours, there was nothing but the sound of fuzzy music from the radio and the loud blast of the A/C. It became later and later in the evening. Soon, it was nearly midnight.

Not wanting to make her sleep in a cramped seat all night, he pulled into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, and checked them into a room-a room with two beds.

///

He carried her inside. He placed her in the bed closest to the bathroom, so she would get a draft from the window. He switched the hotel blankets and pillowcases with ones he had purchased and washed with his own two hands. He tucked her in. He kissed her forehead.

He whispered, "I love you," Over and over again, until he fell into a peaceful sleep on the other bed.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I own nothing!**_

He stopped counting the hours shortly after they set off on the second day. He just relished every moment—with her. She stared straight ahead as he drove at a steady pace. She seemed content, if not a little tired. She had woken with a small whimper, which in turn roused him from his slumber.

It was nothing. It was just a sound of surprise from waking up in a different bed, after months of sleeping on a firm, thin, plastic mattress. But she still had trouble going back to sleep, so he got them both dressed and packed, and checked out early.

He didn't feel as tired as he should have. After all, he had been searching for two months, three weeks, and six days. And now, here he was on the third month since her disappearance, driving some more. But, now he had her with him—safe, sound, and semi-healthy.

"Arkansas." He pointed at the license plate of a Volts Wagon Beetle that passed in front of them. Had it been any other situation, or three months earlier, he would have made it a "punch buggy" opportunity as well. But striking her in any way didn't seem like the best idea in her convalescence.

"You already said Arkansas." She pointed out quietly.

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well they all look the same after a while." He knew not to argue with her. Even before the incident, her memory was impeccable.

She clutched the bottle of water he had bought her at the gas station the day before in her lap as she continued to gaze out in front of them. She had drunk from it at all. The seal wasn't even broken. She just held onto it, like a safety blanket.

"Are you hungry? I have sandwich stuff…"

"No."

"Emma, you have to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

He stared at her, before sighing and pulling off to the side of the road. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up to climb into the back of the van.

Emma leaned her head back and listened as he threw together his lunch. After a moment, a napkin with a sloppily made sandwich atop of it flopped into her lap.

"Eat!" He ordered gently. "You'll get sick if you don't!"

Emma glared at him before setting her sandwich on the ground beside her and crossing her arms. Her face showed a slight veneer of annoyance, but he wasn't completely positive.

"Emma! Please eat!"

No response.

"Please!"

Silence.

He watched her patiently. Then, he picked up the sandwich and placed it in her lap again. Without missing a beat, Emma picked it up, took a small bite, and threw it out the opened window.

Will's jaw dropped, before he let out a small growl and turned on the car again. "I'm sorry if it wasn't satisfactory." He muttered, pulling back onto the road.

Again, she didn't reply.

///

She watched him as he slept. He was still as handsome and endearing, as he was the day she left. He still smiled and leaned in closer every time she spoke. He still acted as though she was the only person in the world, or at least she was the center of his.

They were in another motel. This one at least had air conditioning. She had to sleep above the covers the night before.

He bought her sheets of her own. He bought her towels. He bought her anything that would make the trip more comfortable. But she still couldn't be in the same room as him without feeling fear, without feeling shame.

She made this kind, patient man angry. She made this wonderful teacher, this spectacular individual, so outraged that he threatened to leave her. Something he swore would never happen. She must have been that horrible.

She was still that horrible.

She couldn't even eat a sandwich that he had made for her that afternoon. She was so stubborn, that instead of setting it aside and telling him what plagued her, she threw it out onto the hot asphalt.

She was a monster.

She was disgraceful.

She was cruel.

Throwing the fresh linens that cocooned her to the side, Emma swung her legs over the side of the bed and watched him a bit longer. He slept peacefully, facing her. As though facing her could prevent anything from happening.

"Will." She whispered. His nose twitched. His mouth fluttered into a series of smiles, before reverting to its relaxed state. His nimble fingers wrapped around the corners of the pillow as he pushed the sides closer together.

She stood up and walked into the bathroom.

She closed and locked the door behind her and immediately looked in the mirror. She was disheartened by her appearance.

Her eyes were sunken. Her skin was even paler than usual. Her hair hung in limp curls just past her shoulders. And worst of all, she looked as though she hadn't bathed in days.

She ran the water in the shower until it was scalding hot, disrobed, and stepped under the heavy flow. It burned her. She was numb to the pain after a moment.

She took a bar of soap out of the small toile toiletry bowl on the shelf by the tub. She unwrapped it and rubbed it against every part of her until it dissolved in her shaking hand. She leaned against the wall and let the water hit her face.

///

He woke up to the sound of running water. At first he assumed it was raining, and sighed with contentment. But when he looked out the window to see the evening air was not tainted with precipitation, he jumped out of bed.

He flew into the bathroom and nearly tripped over her clothes. "Emma!" He shouted, squinting through the steam that had filled the tiny room. He ripped open the shower curtain. He reached in to grab her, and hissed with pain when he felt the water. "Emma! What's going on?" He braced himself, before quickly turning the faucet off.

She was still leaning against the wall. Her pale form was quivering, despite the fact that she was standing in scorching hot water. She stared at him with large eyes.

"Emma! What's wrong baby?" He choked grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her.

"I needed a shower." She murmured, letting him rub her dry.

"You're blistering!" He sighed touching her marred collarbone gently. "Let's get you dressed. We're going to the hospital."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry for the delay! I'll update sooner! I promise!**_

_**(I own nothing.)**_

She was of course very reluctant about going to the hospital. He had gotten her into the car and buckled up before she began to fight him with desperate pleadings.

He sighed when he saw her tears, and knelt on the floorboard in front of her. He gently lifted the collar of her shirt and examined the skin. She was blistered, and purple. When he touched the irritated skin, she hissed with pain. But he had to admit; it looked no worse than a bad case of sunburn in need of few pounds of aloe.

So after a trip to a nearby pharmacy, she was lying on the hotel bed again. He dabbed cold green liquid on her burnt chest and arms. She occasionally whimpered when he pressed too hard. She stared at his worried face as he tended to her and smiled softly.

"Thank you." She murmured, closing her eyes.

He looked up for just a moment and nodded, before continuing.

///

They didn't drive that day. He let her sleep. He let her relax, and take as many, reasonably warm, showers as she needed. He turned on the television, and turned on a classic movie for her to watch. She loved Humphrey Bogart. And that didn't change. Her eyes lit up when he sauntered into the shot, smoking a cigarette in his trademark fashion.

The moment happened when he had just begun to nod off in the middle of _Casablanca_. He didn't even realize she was looking at him until she spoke.

"I'm sorry about your plates." She whispered.

He blinked, and turned to look at her after a moment. She quickly reverted her gaze to her fingers. She was biting her lip.

"My plates?" He yawned and sat up.

"You really liked them. And I broke them."

His jaw opened and closed multiple times. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but he couldn't fully register. "Oh…Emma." He gasped, sitting up and turning to face her as he spoke. "I don't give a damn about those plates!"

"I wouldn't have overreacted like that, but I had just gotten back from the doctor and…"

He interrupted her, "No honey, I overreacted! I mean way too…" He stopped when he realized what she had said. He turned down the television and sat up. "What happened at the doctor?" He demanded. She looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"I was pregnant." She whispered. Her voice was soft, hesitant. His eyes went as wide as hers, a great feat. She answered his unspoken question. "I had found out a few weeks before the…" She trailed off and swallowed a bit.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" He gasped, wanting so much to reach out and touch her. Hold her. But it was still too soon.

"I wanted to be sure before getting your hopes up again." She sat up as well, trying not to let the tears pricking the back of her eyes win. "I wanted to make sure it was a REAL baby. When I went to the doctor the first time, he said I was in fact pregnant…I didn't know what to do though! I thought I would be happy…but I was scared you would think I was lying…" She choked back a sob.

"Emma! I would never think that! I already told you that you could NEVER do that." He tried his hardest not to scold her.

"Please Will, let me finish…I don't know how much longer I can go…" She whimpered. He nodded, clamped his jaw shut. Watched her in anticipation.

"The morning of the fight…I was at school…my stomach started hurting. I went to the bathroom…I was bleeding." She covered her mouth and shuttered as another sob wracked her frail form. "I went to the doctor…I had…a…" She couldn't continue. But he knew.

He couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled her into his arms and buried his face into her hair to hide the shock, the pain, on his face. She had gone through this alone. She hadn't gotten to tell him. "Oh…god…I'm sorry…" He whispered into her ear.

"He said it was a Chromosomal Abnormality…My immune system…rejected…rejected our baby!" She was practically yelling over her own sobs. Her cries were deafening to both of them.

He pulled back and held her by her shoulders. "Emma! It's not your fault!" He told her firmly. "It's common…it could happen to anyone…" He didn't know what he could say to make it better.

"I was going to tell you! I didn't want to keep it from you!" She promised, trying to compose herself. Clinging to his arms for dear life. "I wanted to make you dinner…I was going to make the lasagna you like…but then a roach came out from under the dishwasher while I was emptying it. When I dropped the plates…it sunk in…"

Will's jaw dropped as he absorbed what she was telling him. He couldn't even fathom what she had been going through. He had made things so much worse for her. "Em…Emmy…" He began to choke up. "Sweetheart I'm so sorry…" He gasped pulling her to him again and rocking her back and forth.

"I left…I couldn't tell you…you said you wanted to leave me because I broke plates…"

"It wasn't the plates!" He reiterated. "I'll tell you later. But believe me, there are other damn plates with fucking tulips!"

"They were daisies." She corrected. He chuckled—a small chuckle. It had him smiling nonetheless. He held her for what seemed like hours, until she spoke again. "I drove and drove…got gas…and drove…and drove…" She repeated the mantra until she dozed off in his arms.

Her face was swollen from crying, her skin was still heated from burns. But she was in his arms. Finally.


	5. Chapter 5

_**I own nothing**_

She woke at four in the morning. He was still asleep. She sat up on her elbows and stared down at him sadly. Three months. Nearly three months she had missed watching him sleep. She was grateful that she had only remembered his face when he showed up at the hospital.

But her love never went away.

She didn't resent him.

She resented herself.

Closing her eyes to keep the tears at bay, she curled back into his arms and fell asleep.

///

They were almost to Fort Haven, Indiana. It was mid-afternoon, and they only had nine hours to go. He wasn't stopping at another hotel. He was tired of driving.

"Vermont." Emma pointed at a minivan driving by. "I think that's all fifty." She cuddled into her blanket and closed her eyes. Will nodded and smiled at her. She was much more at ease. She was much more like Emma.

He gripped the steering wheel. He was anxious. He kept think about the conversation he'd had with her doctor in Colorado. _"She's very fragile Mr. Schuester." _The man had warned him, _"If there isn't a hospital for her, please try to find her a therapist. She can't suddenly stop treatment. She'll get sick again." _

"Are you hungry?" He asked, pulling off of the interstate. He might not have needed a hotel, but bathroom breaks couldn't wait. Emma shook her head quickly.

"Can I just have soup when we get home?" She pleaded.

"Of course." Will didn't care that she hadn't eaten a whole meal in the past two days. She had just referenced Lima as _home_. He couldn't be happier.

///

"I have to talk to you…about something…" He began hesitantly. She had been content with listening to him sing along to the radio as she watched the sunset. She watched him rub the steering wheel. He was agitated. "Emma…Tomorrow afternoon…I have to take you to a therapist." He whispered. Ashamed.

She didn't say anything for a few minutes. Finally in a small voice she replied. "Okay." She choked the word out.

"I don't want to Em…but this way you can go back to McKinley in the fall."

Her eyes shot up to look at him. "I can go back?" She was shocked. She left the school without notice. Which led to Will leaving. She had assumed that she'd been exiled from returning, after abandoning her post twice in two years.

"Please! Figgins has a crush on you!" He tried to joke. "You could give the students alcohol and he'd praise you for it!"

She continued to stare at him. "Oh Will…I want to go back…" She bit her lip and sniffled. "The idea of having to stay at home or find another job… hurts…"

Will smiled softly and nodded. Silence enveloped them once more. He turned the music up and glanced over at her. "I'll stay with you the whole time…" She looked at him, confused. "In therapy." He clarified.

She nodded and leaned against the window. "Thank you."

Then she fell asleep.

///

He carried in their luggage—a suitcase for each of them. He carried in all the accumulated trash. He carried in the blankets and pillows. He carried in Emma. She was exhausted, emotionally.

"Hmmm…we're here?" She moaned into his neck.

"We're here." He resisted kissing her on top of her beautiful head. It was too soon. "My mom came over and made sure everything was in order…dusted…" He laid her gently on the bed and adjusted the covers over her. Then he watched her sleep.

///

"Emma. Tell me about Will." His name was Dr. Everest. He had a mustache like Clark Gable's. It was unnerving. But he was kind.

"He's my boyfriend…" She looked at him. Unsure. Will's proud beaming face erased her doubt. "He tolerates me."

"It's not a case of tolerance!" Will said quickly. "I love you!" Dr. Everest held up his hand. The younger man clamped his jaw shut.

"Emma, is your disorder the reason you ran away?"

"It was a part of it, yes."

"What was the other part?"

"There were many parts."

"Care to give an example?"

"I'd rather not." She looked at Will as though she were terrified to sell him down the river. She would not make him the bad guy. She refused.

"It's okay honey, talk to him." He encouraged her. Taking her cold hand into his. Emma shook her head and closed her eyes.

"No. You're a good man. It's none of _his_ business." She growled glaring Everest. "We'll talk about something else."

"Okay Emma." The doctor crossed his legs, played with his mustache. "Tell me about your childhood, about what caused your disorder?" Will glared at the man.

"It's not a disorder doctor. It's a fear." He snarled.

"My apologies." The older man wrote something on his notepad before continuing, "What caused your…_fears_…Emma?"

Emma bit her lip and sighed. She hated this. He was coddling her. Making her feel stupid, useless. She would have sooner preferred to be back in Colorado, where they strapped her arms down at the smallest sign of aggression. They never made her relive her past, her ridiculous, horrid past. Her mind reverted to that day at the farm.

_It was her eighth birthday. The little girl sat on her father's shoulders as they walked through the large barn housing hundreds of black and white cows. She ate some homemade yogurt out of a small Dixie cup._

_Her mother, Holly, had dressed her in a pair of dark denim overhauls with a puffy-sleeved white shirt underneath. The doting woman even French braided little pigtails into her long red hair. She looked like a regular little farm girl. She was even wearing large rain boots to alleviate staining some of her nice school shoes with mud or manure._

_Dennis, her father, didn't let her feet touch the ground though. She had always been a petite child. In his eyes though, she was fragile. So at six foot, 10 inches tall, he was quite the spectacle always carrying around the tiny girl. _

"_Emmy," The large man called up to her as they headed outside. "What color cows do you want on your farm?" He had always encouraged her dream._

"_I like the Holsteins." She gestured the patched cows as they passed them. "But I might like to try a few of the Jerseys, and maybe some Brown Swiss's. They're best for making cheese." She continued to rattle on about different breeds of cows and their traits. Holly, in the meantime, was wrangling up the other, rambunctious, children._

_The Pillsbury's had five kids. Four boys: Alexander was sixteen, the twins, Toby and Freddie were thirteen, Vincent was twelve, and Emma. The boys were all out of control and loud, making simple family outings quite the ordeal._

"_Okay folks, this here's our runoff lagoon," Farmer Glasgow announced, leaning against a post separating them from the contaminated area. "Because we are sharing it with the farm next door, it is not your average holding pond. It contains leftover parts of chickens, pigs, and even some steer from the slaughterhouse."_

_Emma's big brown eyes clenched shut. She didn't want to see the nasty area. She relaxed when Dennis patted her knee. "Don't worry Pumpkin. Your farm will be nowhere NEAR a slaughterhouse." He assured her. The girl smiled and rested her chin on top of his head as she continued to listen to the farmer._

_It was a few minutes later when Holly let out a startled gasp. "Oh Denny!" She exclaimed grabbing her husband's arm. "Is that Alex?" She pointed at a tall figure sneaking into the slaughterhouse across the field._

_Emma heard her father let out a curse, before he grabbed her arm and pulled her gently off of his shoulders. "Emmy, stay here, we'll be right back." He ordered, before running off with Holly on his heals. "Watch your sister boys!"_

_Toby and Freddie rolled their eyes and glared at the small girl. "Please, the Golden Child is better off watching us. She is PERFECT after all." Toby snorted chewing on his Dixie cup._

"_Yeah." Vince snarled tugging Emma's pigtail as she focused on the farmer. "She's an angel!"_

"_Stop Vincent! I want to listen!" The girl whined walking away from them, towards the front of the crowd. She smiled as she listened to the old man describe the process of buying and trading cows. _

_Finally, the crowd started to move towards the pasture. And as much as Emma wanted to follow them, she was much more concerned about waiting for her parents to return. She positioned herself on the fence, her back deliberately turned towards the runoff lagoon._

"_What are you doing carrot top?" Freddie demanded as he started to wander towards the pasture as well. "Your missing the tour you just HAD to waste our Saturday on!"_

"_Mommy and Daddy will be back in a minute." Emma murmured playing with the shiny buckles on her overhauls. "We should wait."_

"_Don't be stupid," Vince tried to pull her down. "It's only a few feet away! They'll see us!" Emma yanked her hand away and shook her head._

"_I'm not moving. Dad said for me to stay here!"_

"_Emma! Stop being a little bitch!" Toby rolled his eyes and tried to drag her down as well. The girl's large eyes widened even more and her jaw dropped._

"_You cursed!" She gasped. Though her parents let out the occasional swear words, it was a HUGE no-no for the kids to cuss. _

"_Oh give me a break! Mom and Dad aren't here, stop the goody tissues shit!" The twin muttered dropping her arm. _

"_I'm telling!" Emma announced. Normally she didn't pay attention to her brothers' antics. But today they had been so mean to her, despite the fact that it was her birthday. They deserved to get in trouble. _

_She turned when she heard her father's voice. When she saw her parents and Alex trudging back from the slaughterhouse, she instantly forgot about her altercation with Toby and smiled. She stood up on the top of the gate and waved at them. Dennis waved back, and began to gesture for her to get down, when she felt a hard shove from behind._

_The last thing she heard, before plummeting into the lagoon, was her mother's scream._

_///_

"I had blood and milk and…poop…all over me…down my shirt…in my ears…I swallowed some! They had to pump my stomach and give me shots…" Emma whimpered. Her hand was tightly clasped in Will's.

Dr. Everest looked slightly repulsed, but he continued. "Were you angry Emma?" He asked sullenly.

Emma didn't answer, she just cried into her clenched fist. Will, not being able to handle her pain. Her discomfort—stood up. "We're done fore today." He declared, walking her out of the office.


	6. Chapter 6

**I own nothing. If I did, then Shelby would have NEVER happened!**

///

She began to smile again. Really smile.

It started when he bought her a new vacuum cleaner. It was pink, custom made, and ultra powerful. She lit up like a little girl with a new doll. She vacuumed every room in the house as well as all of the furniture. She was on cloud nine.

Then, it was just the little things. Making her dinner, steaming her clothes, singing her to sleep. He was always thinking of her. He made sure nothing upset her.

"Only a month and a half." He said as they ate his homemade Caesar salad in front of the TV. "Figgins will make sure your office is cleaned properly before you get there."

Emma shook her head as she chewed on the wad of lettuce she had just shoved in her mouth. "Oh, can I clean it?" She requested, eyes wide. "No one ever cleans the windows right."

Will smiled and nodded. "Of course! We can go over there with some of the new organic stuff we bought."

She agreed and continued to nibble on the large croutons in her bowl.

///

He hated the therapy more than she did. She was asked questions that she should never have had to answer. Why had he wanted her to get help so badly? She was fine three months ago. She was happy and content. Now she had more stress than ever, and with each session it grew.

"Emma, you drove quite a distance." Everest pointed out, studying his notes. "Did you have a destination in mind when you left?"

This being the fourth session, Will had learned to keep his mouth shut, and let Emma answer. This was one of the few questions though, that he had asked himself when he found her in the mountains. Emma shook her head and shrugged. "I just drove." She whispered. "I don't remember what I was thinking."

"You drove your car into a river."

"I did."

"Why did you do that Emma?"

"I was lost."

///

"A hammock Will?" She crossed her arms skeptically as she watched him from the back porch. "This is supposed to help me relax?"

He smiled and fell back onto the white netted hammock strung between two trees in their quaint back yard. "I'm about to fall asleep already." He held out an arm to her. "Join me milady!"

She sighed and walked over to lie next to him. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled his face into her hair. "Say goodbye to high blood pressure." He murmured.

Emma giggled and shook her head.

///

"Are you angry at Will?"

"No I'm not." She sat up and glared at the doctor. Will seemed to tense up beside her. She grasped his hand tightly and clenched her jaw.

"You don't run away from someone for no reason Emma." Everest wrote on his notepad absentmindedly. "You must have been afraid."

"Fear and anger are different things." Emma pointed out. She bit her lip and stared at her unpainted nails, dry and chipped. Maybe Will would take her to the salon when they were done.

"So you were afraid of him?"

If there was one thing that she hated about psychology, it was that the doctors always made a habit of talking in circles.

"I was not afraid of Will." She said slowly, between her teeth. "I was afraid of…what I had done…"

"You mean the baby?" Both pairs of eyes shot up at the doctor. He knew immediately that he had struck a nerve.

"I…the baby was just the tip of the iceberg." She whispered. "I was making Will...he used to be so carefree…happy…then he met me. The woman who made him wash between his toes every time he took his shoes off."

"Emma! I told you that helped relieve a lot of itch!" Will reassured her. "If I was unhappy, I would have told you."

"Yes, and you did." She looked slowly into his eyes.

Silence and truth hung concurrently in the air.

Dr. Everest cleared his throat. "What he said is still fresh in your mind." He observed, much to both of their annoyance. "It made you run away. It made you scared."

"I thought he wanted…needed…someone better…someone sane."

"And now?"

"Now she knows what I need. And I believe that it's quite obvious that it's her." Will said matter-of-factly. He pulled her closer to him.

"You have accepted this Emma? That Will needs you?"

She nodded and continued to contemplate whether or not she should go with a nice coral nail polish, or more of a rosy shade.

"I need him." She whispered. "I love him…very much." She gave the doctor a tight-lipped smile. Her large eyes glowered as though she had just shared something personal. And she did.

"You're a strong woman Emma. That will prove quite useful in your recovery." Everest said gently. "Okay! I'll see you next week."

Emma choked up on the way out to the car. It was the first time she had ever been told that she was strong.

///

It was raining. He was in a hurry to get them to the school before the poorly constructed parking lot took on the swimming pools that were puddles. He had run to the store while she showered to get some last minute cleaning supplies. When he arrived back at the condo to pick her up, she was already waiting for him—with a large daisy umbrella as her shelter in the torrential downpour.

"I stood next to a puddle for twenty seconds!" She boasted, greeting him with a kiss. "I even touched the edge with my boot."

"I'm impressed!" Will beamed. She was slowly becoming his old Emma. She was joking, she was laughing, she was even singing.

He drove cautiously on the bumpy Lima roads. With the wipers going at full force, he still couldn't see a foot ahead of them. He kept glancing over to make sure Emma had buckled her seatbelt.

It was when a large semi-truck sped by them, splashing the windshield with a tidal wave of water, that it happened.

She screamed a scream so loud, so piercing, that Will swerved off of the road into a small ditch. This caused her screams to intensify. They hadn't crashed, per say. The airbags didn't even deploy. But the way she shot her hands out in front of her, you would think that they did.

"Emma!" He called to her. Unbuckling her and pulling her into his embrace, he grabbed her chin in his hand. "Emma! What's going on?"

"No! The water! No! No! No!" She shrieked. She grabbed his collar and cried out as the memories flooded her fragile mind.

_Swerving. Skidding. Then letting go of the breaks and letting fate have its way. _

_She cried out as soon as her small car hit the river, head on. Icy water immediately began to seep in through the cracks in the doors and front windshield. _

_She didn't unbuckle her seatbelt. She wanted to suffer._

_She began to sink. She cried harder. _

_If it weren't for the people who saw her go in, she would have just let the rapids take her into its white, foamy embrace._

She opened her tear-filled eyes and stared at Will. "I'm sorry." She whimpered. "I just…I needed to vent."

Will laughed and tried to hide the terror in his eyes. "Honey, that was not venting, that was hysteria!" He teased hugging her closer, before sitting her up. "Drink your water. There's some of your anti-anxiety medication in the glove box." He rubbed the back of her neck as she buckled up.

He wasn't going to ask what had been growing through her mind. She would tell him when she was ready. He just wanted her to be happy and secure again. Then would he get all of the answers he needed—and give her some in return.


End file.
